They say this world
is not for the weak
Not for the pure hearted one
Not for those that are feeble
I disagreed
Until I saw the little kittens
Tussling for food
The big hairy one claims the bowl
With his ferocious claws
And dreadful eyes
others could only watch
His moving mouth
And make for the remaining
I said to myself
Being weak makes you vulnerable
And bullied
YOU ARE READING
The memory of a lost child
PoesíaThe journey of a child through nature ,tragedy that comes with love and the struggle for inner peace.
